The Eighteenth Day
by callmewhateveryouwant
Summary: It's been seventeen of the worst days I’ve ever experienced, because seventeen days ago, you disappeared.


**A/N:** I racked my brain for hours trying to find a song that captured this story, because I always title my stories after songs or incorporate lyrics, but I couldn't seem to find one for this story. Oh well, I was fed up with looking so I scrounged up a title and hope it works. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings: **Some language, a bit o' angst, slashy goodness (but can that be considered a warning, really?) and some…I dunno, Ron/Draco bonding so that's kinda weird.

**The Eighteenth Day **

Told in Draco's POV

It's been seventeen days. Seventeen fucking days. Seventeen of the worst days I've ever experienced, because seventeen days ago, you disappeared. It was six days since the war had broken out and four days since I blew my cover as a spy and started fighting alongside you. I was dueling with Lucius at the time while you were right next to me fighting Voldemort. Around us people were falling, but neither of us could spare a glance to see who it was that had just been killed. Too many of them, we knew, were on our side; even if we couldn't look directly at them, we knew many of them were on our side by the distinct lack of black robes, Death Eater robes, as we saw them fall in our peripheral vision.

I had just shielded a Crucio from hitting me when I heard the blood-curdling screams rip through the air as you destroyed the creature that'd been set on destroying you since you were only a few months old. Voldemort was defeated, our side had won. Of course, that didn't mean the end of the battle; plenty of Death Eaters were still alive and determined to win even if their Lord had fallen.

I spared a glance your way to make sure you were your okay; I couldn't help but make sure. But that one glance cost everything. With that one glance Lucius was able to throw another Crucio my way, and I didn't have fast enough reflexes to block it, for my attention had shifted for that one moment. I crumbled to the ground, feeling the indescribable pain of the Cruciatus Curse. I had experienced it before, of course; my 'little stunt', also known as my incapability to kill Dumbledore, had proven a time where I learned much of the pain one feels from experiencing the Cruciatus. Plus, being raised by a Death Eater provided many opportunities to experience it.

My screams seemed to be tearing their way out of my throat, tears streaming down my face. The curse was lifted shortly after, and I was still reeling from the effects, so I didn't notice Lucius turn his attentions to you. My eyes settled on you right as he grabbed you and disappeared with a crack echoing through the crisp air. I let out another bellow, realizing what had just happened. I haven't seen you since.

Everyone remaining of the Order has been looking for you, including me. I didn't sleep at all the first week you were gone. I couldn't sleep without your warm body pressed up against mine. I couldn't bear waking up only seeing a vacant space where your head should be. No, I couldn't do it. Well, after the seventh day, Severus fumbled his way through the maze of books I had been looking through to try and find a way to get to you and he wrestled me down, forcing a Dreamless Sleep Draught down my throat. Despite the horrible addictive qualities of the Dreamless Sleep Draught, Severus has had to resort to forcing it upon me every night since then.

So far our search has been for naught. No one has found the tiniest of leads to where you might be. Even though you had a tracking spell put on you for such an occasion, Lucius seems to have taken you somewhere that is unplottable and has made it so we can't locate you through the spell. I can't even explain how frustrated I am. None of us can find you and it's fucking torture not knowing if you're alive or if your corpse is lying somewhere on a cold stone floor.

I've been trying so hard to keep it together, and I can tell that Lupin has, too. I know he's like a father to you and you a son to him, and I can just imagine how horrible he feels, mostly because I feel it as well. I can't help but think that if I hadn't let my guard down for that one moment, you'd be here, you'd be safe, and I wouldn't have to feel the pain of being eaten alive by this guilt. I can't handle it; Malfoy's weren't raised to feel the stab of guilt, or the feeling of being in love, especially being in love with Harry bloody Potter.

It's four in the morning right now and I'm lying in our bed. Severus withheld the Dreamless Sleep Draught and decided on spelling me to my bed and clearing my room of any books or resources of any kind I could delve into instead of falling asleep. Well, I'm not asleep anyway, reduced to thinking. Never a good thing when one is trying with all one's power _not_ to think.

I'm lying on my back, my hair practically soaked from all the tears that have slipped down my face in the past few hours. In the distance I hear a celebration going on. Gods, I'm in a Muggle neighborhood and even _they're _celebrating the death of Voldemort. It just shows how huge this war was. Even as I hear more fireworks going off, I can't help but feel disgust at everyone celebrating. The person who is responsible for Voldemort's death is missing, maybe dead, and people are having a fucking party. Shutting out the surrounding noises, I resort to flashing back on all our moments together, reliving our whole relationship. I remember the exact moment I realized that my feelings for you were nothing like a person should feel for their enemy.

It was fourth year, right after the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. You had just come out of the water you were pushing yourself up to shore, pulling Ron and Delacour's sister with you. There were a few moments between then and when Madam Pomfrey wrapped you up in that ridiculous towel where you were standing there, stretching your muscles, arching your back, shaking water out of your hair, doing all the right things to make you damnably sexy. I couldn't help but notice how your clothes were plastered against your skin, showing the lean muscles underneath as you contorted your body. I knew right then and there something was amiss, since people aren't generally know to sport a bit of a woody for their school rivals.

I immediately squashed the emotions, chalking them up to teenage hormones fucking with my mind. Nothing came of it, of course, I kept my secrets, well, secret. After a while I just accepted the fact that I had a major crush on The Boy Who Lived. So what? I didn't let it rule my life; it really only mattered for some spectacular wank fantasies.

So nothing changed in our splendid hate-filled relationship for the next two years. Everything changed, though, the summer after sixth year. I had been with Severus for the past month and a half and had been recuperating from the punishment of failing in my task. Voldemort had made sure that I learned my lesson. I remember Severus waking me up around two in the morning, not that I had been asleep, as you well know, I'm a bit of an insomniac. He got me up and told me to go find you and tell you that I was willing to become a spy for you. I had no clue Severus was a spy at the time, so his command was a bit disconcerting. Well, I tracked you down, you still seemed to be at your relatives' place. Why, I don't know, but you must've had a good reason.

You nearly killed me when you saw me sitting on my broomstick outside your window. You let me in anyway, though you quickly subjected me to Veritaserum and hounded me with questions. After a thorough mind-raping session, you were satisfied and gave me the counter to the Truth Potion. You let me stay with you for the two days you remained at their residence. After that, you took me to Grimmauld Place, though you yourself stayed for only the briefest amount of time possible. I couldn't blame you; I can't imagine how rough it must've been to stay in a place that reminded you of your godfather at every turn.

I stayed there after that, joining the Order and planning how I was to spy. I got some intense training from Severus, and using my newly acquired sleuthing skills, realized that something was going on between him and Lupin. Something not quite platonic. I quickly cornered Severus and managed to get it out of him; he and Lupin were an _item_. The information was astounding. I simply _had _to tell someone, but I soon realized there was no one to tell. I had no friends.

So, I ended up telling you on one of your short visits to headquarters and you laughed so hard about it. I could tell by the gleam in your eyes that you'd be hounding Lupin forever about it. That little incident seemed to break the ice between us, and you started hanging around Grimmauld Place a bit more, more importantly, you started hanging around _me_ a bit more.

Quick visits soon changed to longer visits which soon changed to overnight visits. Most of the nights you'd stay with Ron in his room, to my disappointment. One night, though, you stayed in my room, after Ron and Hermione had finally gotten together and Ron ran off to Hermione's room. We spent the whole night talking. And that's how our new tradition started. You and Ron would go to your room, Ron would sneak into Hermione's, and you'd sneak into mine. I admit I thoroughly loved this tradition. The nights spent together strengthened our friendship greatly; we shared each other's deepest secrets.

Most of the nights were incredibly fun, though one night, while we were both sleeping, my Mark suddenly flared with searing pain. I awoke with a scream tumbling from my lips, clutching my arm to my chest. It receded to a dull throb quickly, but I already had tears streaming down my face. I quickly composed myself though, for I had to leave. Voldemort had called, I had to go. And from the pain I felt I could tell that he was _pissed_.

The meeting lasted hours and hours. Apparently Voldemort had figured out he had a spy among the ranks. He proceeded to torture every one of his followers, including me and Snape, but he didn't catch on that both of us were the spies he'd been trying to find. He instead guessed that it was Avery and dismissed the rest of as while putting Avery under another round of Crucio.

When I returned, I found you pacing frantically in my room, your face lined with worry. Your eyes shot to the doorway as I stepped into the room. Before any rational thought ran through your head, you had rushed into my arms and _kissed me_. You pulled away once you realized this wasn't the normal greeting between us and when you commenced to babble and prattle on excuses and apologies, I shut you up the only way I saw fitting; I kissed you.

The next few weeks were awkward, getting accustomed to our new relationship, telling our friends, plus the whole 'destroy Voldemort' obstacle was looming over our heads the whole time. We quickly got our act together and were having copious amounts of amazing sex while Ron pretended not to notice when we came down to breakfast, our faces flushed and clothes in disarray.

It had only been three months into our relationship, three short months, until the war officially broke out. I hadn't had near enough time with you and now you're gone, thanks to me. Reality crashes down on me again and a choked sob escapes my mouth right as I hear a quiet knock on my door. I give a grunt which I hope whoever's on the other side of the door can figure out is a 'come in' grunt. Apparently they did and when the door opens, I see Ron Weasley on the other side.

God, I can't handle Weasley right now. He's been very off-kilter about our whole relationship thing, so it's never a good thing to be left alone with the redhead; I always fear he'll off me so I'd have no choice but to stop seeing you. Death doesn't give you many options. Merlin, I should _not_ thinking about death right now, it only makes me think of the possibility that you're dead. Another tear slips down my face as I turn my back to Weasley, my breath coming out in harsh gasps.

I hear the door close and can only hope that he's left and I'm alone again. My hope shatters as I feel him sit down on the edge of our bed and hear him clear his throat awkwardly. Gods, can't he just leave? I'm in one of the worst states I've been since Lucius took you and your best mate just _had_ to show up at four in the bloody morning. A sob rips its way through my throat before I can prevent it, and when I feel a reassuring hand on my shoulder, that's it. I don't care that it's Weasley's hand, I break down.

Sobs are racking my body and I can't find the effort to try and force them down. I curl up and muffle the sobs into my fists, the tears streaming down my face at a steady pace. Before I know it, I'm sitting up and clinging to Weasley desperately, and I can hear the harsh sobs in my ear as he cries his heart out too. I feel the tears sliding down the skin on my shoulder and I don't give a shit.

I've been bottling this up for seventeen days and it has finally broken free. If Weasley is in my presence at the time, so be it; I can't stop it now. We're clutching at each other as if we break apart, the world will be over. And in a way, it will be. We'll return to reality and you'll still be gone. Eventually, though, our sobs taper off and we pull apart. I try to wipe the tears and snot from my face, even though I know it's a futile attempt. I suddenly realize how weird it is that Weasley is in our room at four- I look at the clock, a quarter past five now, actually- in the morning after having a very intense sob session with the boy.

I clear my throat awkwardly, reminding myself of Weasley when he first entered the room. "Er…Weasley? Whatcha doing in my room this time of night, er, morning?" Weasley looks down at the bed covers, not making the slightest bit of eye contact with me.

"Well, I, um, I heard you sobbing, rather loudly, and I thought I'd come make sure you're alright." I was sobbing? I hadn't even realized.

"Oh," I say stupidly. "Thanks." This is said just as stupidly.

"Er, no problem," Weasley responds. I find a bit satisfaction in the fact he sounds just as I stupid as I do. He gets up to leave and as he opens the door, I stop him.

"Weas- Ron? Thanks. Really. It really helped having you here." The prat, of course, blushes.

"Oh, it's fine. I- I was having a rough time, too so I thought why not go through hell together, eh?" I allow a small smile at his comment and nod at him. I know I'll never look at Ron the same way again; I now understand why you're his friend. I lay back down on our bed but before I hear the door close, Ron says one last thing. "Don't worry, we'll find him." I nod again, minutely, another tear slipping out of my eye already.

The door clicks shut and before I start thinking again, I force myself to fall asleep. I wake up, the thought of eighteen days skirting across my mind, to discover it's already past one in the afternoon. I curse vehemently, stumbling around the room and pulling on random articles of clothing. I don't even look at my reflection in the mirror- a first, I assure you- before dashing out of our room. I stomp down the stairs where I find most of the Order members crowded around the kitchen table. All of the Weasleys are there, minus the ones lost during the war, Charlie, Percy, Ginny. Severus and Lupin are sitting together, muttering quietly amongst themselves. Tonks is chatting with Shacklebolt. Moody is looking at everyone with heavy laden suspicion- nothing new there. Hermione and Ron are keeping a cool demeanor though I know they're nervous since they're holding hands under the table and embarrassed by the show of affection.

I dismiss all of it and rush up to Severus and proceed to chew him out. "How come no one woke me!" Severus splutters for a moment, surprising I know, but quickly regains his wits and adopts his cool demeanor.

"Weasley," noticing there's more than one Weasley he could be referring to, Snape quickly adds, "Ron told us you had a late night last night and asked us not to disturb you." I spare a glance at Ron and give him what I hope is an appreciative look. That doesn't stop the fact that I'm royally pissed at Severus for letting me sleep in so late. It cost me hours of research time.

I turn back to Severus and snap at him. "I appreciate Ron's gesture," I get a strange look for calling Ron by his first name, "but you know not to let me sleep in past nine. I have to keep researching; this has cost me _hours_ that I'll never get back! I have to find Harry! You can't let me lose time, every second is precious! I need to find him! It's all my fault he's missing but if I lose any more time, I might never find him!" By the end I'm shouting and tears are streaming down my face. God, two breakdowns so close together; what has gotten into me? I stop shouting, reduced to heavy pants as a few more tears slide down my face. Everyone is in a stunned silence. I think it's because of me, but I quickly realize they're staring past me. I turn around and come face to face with you.

_Harry_

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. I think I might be hallucinating because there's no way that could really be you. I look you over; you're filthy. You have gashes and bruises all over, your clothes are torn, you're covered in dirt and grime, and you reek. I don't care because suddenly I'm in your arms and you're kissing me and it's the best feeling I've ever experienced and there's no way this is a hallucination because it's feels too good for it not to be reality.

I lose myself in the kiss, my tongue gliding with yours, our lips pressed together. Tears are still falling down my face but I don't care because you're here and you're back and oh god it's the best feeling in the world and I just might die from happiness. We eventually have to pull apart, but we only pull away far enough to be able to breath. You rest your forehead against mine and we just stare into each other's eyes, both sets of eyes wet with tears and voices raspy with barely contained sobs.

_I love you so much_, I think to myself. I realize I've said it out loud when you smile and say, "I love you, too. The thought of you was the only thing keeping me alive." I can't resist; I pull you into another kiss. It starts sweet and loving but soon turns into something fiery and passionate. The sound of people clearing their throats behind me reminds me that we're not alone and it's rather inappropriate to be rutting against each other as we are. I quickly remove my hands from your ass as you pull my shirt back down just as quickly.

I turn around, and you circle my waist from behind, placing a soft kiss to the back of my head. I just now realize how shitty I must look, but can't find the will to care. _You're back_. I look at Lupin and see tears glistening on his cheeks, as are many other's at the table, including Severus. And the next moment, everyone (except Moody) is up and enveloping you, and inevitably me, in a huge hug. I notice Severus standing back so I break free and run into his arms. He doesn't protest and pulls me into a warm embrace.

He pats my back as I sob and we just stay like that for a few moments until I have some mercy and pull away, wiping my eyes and forcing the sobs down because I know how much he hates such displays of affection. I look at him and his obvious discomfort from the hug. I shrug; he knows he's like a father figure to me and I know he really needed the hug, it's just the image he tries to keep that prevents him from showing it, though I can just see a look of content at knowing I'm happy once again lurking beneath the surface of his face.

The huge group of people disperses a bit later, though Lupin and Ron and Hermione linger. I notice Fred and George setting off some of their fireworks and smile. I can see their minds working and planning the party that's bound to happen now that you're back safe. I smirk, knowing how great the party is undoubtedly going to be.

My attention shifts back to you and I wonder to myself why I'm not kissing you right at this very moment. I walk up to you and repeat the question to your face. You simply smile and pull me back into another kiss, this one completely sappy and loving and romantic, but I don't care one bit. We pull apart and move to sit down at the table. I glance around and break into a huge grin when I see Severus and Lupin sucking face rather enthusiastically in the corner. I nudge you and you shift your gaze over to them, cracking up in laughter once you see them. They break apart and as they notice the audience, they both blush, shocking all of us. Severus blushing? Weird; completely and utterly weird.

I find myself not caring, though, as I turn back to you. I can't get over the fact that you're here and you're safe and god you love me just as much as I love you. I pull you into another kiss, though this one is cut short as everyone surrounding us groans out a chorus of "not again". You and I separate, though I put my hand on your thigh, which you cover with your own hand. I scoot closer to you and you rest your head on my shoulder.

We both seem to realize you're about to tell everyone what happened to you, and we both tense up. I kiss the top of your head and give a reassuring squeeze to your thigh. You turn to me and kiss me sweetly, quickly, before everyone can complain. I know the next few weeks are going to be really hard for everyone, you especially, but I'm ready for it. As long as you are by my side and you're okay, nothing can go wrong. My heart swells and my body thrums with love so powerful I question whether I'm truly a Malfoy. I'm a sap, and I admit to it, but I don't care. You're next to me and we're madly in love and as far I can tell everything is right with the world.

Sure, we have yet to capture all the remaining Death Eaters, sure we have mountains of ridiculous paperwork from the Ministry to get through, and sure the next few months are going to be overshadowed by the funerals of all who died fighting for the defeat of Voldemort. But, once again, I can't find the will to care with your head on my shoulder and your hand on my hand. I lace our fingers together and rub the pad of my thumb over the back of your hand. You turn to me and smile, your eyes shining with the love you feel for me. The past seventeen days of torture seem to melt away with that look. Yup, this, everything, is perfect. For me, this is heaven.


End file.
